Crossbreed
by whenthemarshmallowmettheslayer
Summary: Haise's heart is fast in fear; it's just like one of those times when you don't know why but the hair behind the back of your neck is raised because some part you instinctually knows that there is something simply wrong. It makes sense, Haise was just a teenager after all, for him to be afraid of death's arms - her arms, her face it had been so simil-


A/N: If you want quicker updates check it out on archiveofourown. My pen name is youngjusticewriter on there. I really do update there quicker.

'What's happened to me,' he thought. It was no dream - The Metamorphosis.

* * *

Abdominal injur..." A sound, a voice Haise doesn't remember, breaks the silence. It's like a rock crashing into a window that breaks into painful shards, a pebble tossed across a pond that ripples, that floods, what is his consciousness. It's the only thing besides dull pain that distracts him from the emptiness.

"He needs an organ transplant!" Another voice, another person he doesn't know.

Where is he?

"We'll use her organs," the first voice speaks again.

"We can't!" The other voice says, loud in tone. He must be mad. No, outraged is a better word to describe the angered horror at the suggestion. "Without their consent, we can't!"

Haise had only wanted to find ou-

"We have no other choice! We can't let this boy die! I'll accept full responsibility!"

Haise's heart is fast in fear; it's just like one of those times when you don't know why but the hair behind the back of your neck is raised because some part you instinctually knows that there is something simply wrong.

It makes sense, Haise was just a teenager after all, for him to be afraid of death's arms - her arms, her face it had been so simil- when he had barely lived his life.

"Transplant her organs into him!"

He was just a kid. A curious kid who loved to read and often picked up coffee for his mother and grandfather. He wasn't a protagonist to a book or anything...If Haise was to write a book with himself as the main character it would be most certainly be a humorous tragedy like Kafka's works.

[_]

The inquiries pound into Kano but the doctor knew this was nothing compared what might come his way. It had been too good of a chance, an irony, to escape him though.

"Did you do everything you could to save her life? Was life saving treatment withheld from her?!"

His hands wrapped around the microphone that Kano then lifted towards his mouth. There was pause, silence falling onto the occupants of the room before the man in question began to defend his actions. The scene before Kano reminds him of how a dog would stupefy after being draped in a cover.

"She was pronounced dead upon arrival. We felt she died instantly at the scene. I felt it was my duty as a doctor to save the boy's life in front of me. That is why I made the decision despite what consequences that might befall upon me for doing what I did."

What pretty words for such pretty lies.

[_]

The nurse, Haruno is what her identification card reads, lifts up her hand. Her nails are red. They, Haise realizes, are only a few shades darker than what he remembers his blood had been.

"How many fingers am I holding up?" The nurse asks.

It's three short fingers.

"Three," Haise croaks out. It's been days since he has used it. Today is the first day since being brought in that Haise had woken up.

"Do you remember your name?" Haruno inquires.

"Mado, Haise."

The nurse picks up the clipboard from earlier and hurriedly writes that down. Haise narrows his dark eyes. Why woul-

His curiosity must have shown on his face because Haruno smiles down at him. "The paramedics couldn't find an ID on you and your phone was crushed in the accident."

Accident.

(It hadn't been an accident.)

"Your parents or guardians' number?"

"My parents are Mado, Akira and Arima, Kishou," Haise answers before recalling the personal numbers of his mother and father.

That too was jotted down on the clipboard as Haruno gave a hum as a reply.

"Doctor Kano will be a few minutes till he can see you. I'll have some food brought to you until then."

With a kind smile the pink haired nurse left Haise alone in the hospital room. His room though a little small was peaceful between it's four familiar walls. It, the room, was familiar because a drama from tv, one that Maris Stella had accidentally turned to because of grooming, had apparently been filmed in the hospital.

Haise stared at the white walls. They were barren of anything... not that Haise honestly expected to see a banana poster on them. It was just devoid of any get well posters or photographs and the simply color wasn't a welcoming sight or something to keep ones thoughts occupied on for an extended period of time.

No banana poster, no books, no one to crack a joke with (Most people said Haise's jokes were terrible but Hide would always laugh at them. Sometimes out of amusement from the joke or from how cheesy the joke was,) His parents wouldn't be here for a while-

His parents.

Haise's eyes close with a flutter of lashes as he thought of them - of why he was in hospital to begin with. Haise's hands cover his face, cover him from the hospital, or maybe the world itself. Kamishiro. Her name had been Kamishiro, Rize. She had been older than him and normally he wouldn't have meet up with her, a stranger, even if it had just been a bookshop to talk but she had looked like his dad. His dad didn't have siblings and Haise had known that but she had looked rather like him. Too much like his father to dismiss and how wrong he had been.

His father, unlike Ms. Kamishiro, was not a ghoul. The whole thing honestly felt unreal but the scar from the organ transplant was real. The bite mark however (Kamishiro leaned down as though to whisper a secret with mirth in her eyes but there's only pain. Teeth dig into his shoulder as warm blood - his blood - starts to run down his neck. Haise, ever the child of a CCG investigators, fights back but he only has a pen clenched his fist to defend himself with.) wasn't...maybe Haise was wrong. Maybe he had dreamt it.

...It had been an accident, Haise convinces himself as he takes his hands off his face. One lingers at his chin that three fingers upholding his face.

A knock brings Haise from his thoughts, his right hand falling from his chin as a the new nurse, her black hair put into a small ponytail, walks through the open door carrying a tray of food. Haise's stomach rumbles loudly at the smell of miso soup and he ducks his head, a blush staining his face.

Laughter bubbles out of the nurse, Uchiha her identification card reads, at his expense. "Here you go," she says as she laid the tray on his lap.

On the tray there was tofu and a bowl of rice as well as the miso soup he had smelled on it earlier. The chop sticks he picks up break with a small crack. Haise dug in, picking apart a piece of tofu to eat. His eyes widened like an anime character as soon as the food touched his tongue. Of course Haise had heard his bad hospital food could be but it felt rotten to him. The chopsticks were pressed against one and another as Haise made a fist while he forced himself to shallow. Hospital food was suppose to be nasty but it wouldn't be spoiled so it had to be the medicine they had him on.

Yet unease was digging into Haise's stomach like- he could remember her.

Kamishiro had giggled delighted as she asked that he'd ever felt a ghoul's claws before and then the crash. Steel beams falling and while loud in hitting the ground they hadn't been loud enough to cover up the crunch of her splattered body.

The chopsticks fall onto the tray as Haise raised his palm to his mouth. He was fighting a wave of nausea that crashed suddenly upon him.

"Oh are you done already?" The nurse asks, genuine surprise coloring her tone. With a deep breath Haise redrew his hand from his mouth.

"Yes...I'm sorry it just tastes kinda like," Haise trails off. He wasn't in the mood to poorly joke about the quality of hospital food.

"You need to eat if you want to get feeling better," Uchiha admonishes him before leaning down. "May I?"

The nurse didn't wait for a reply as she picked up his chopsticks and dug in. Haise's dark eyes watched as fear began to dig deeper into his scarred, sick stomach (it was the medicine - it had to be).

Puzzlement grew on her face as she began chewing the food. "Tastes normal to me. Do you not like toofu?" She didn't wait for an answer. "Don't be a picky eater even if you're a teenage boy!"

Haise doesn't voice it's not just the toofu. He wishes it all just tastes like ashes in his mouth like books often describes food when a person wasn't into eating at the moment but it worse for Haise than just ashes.

With a false smile plastered on his face Haise begins to eat under the nurse's watch all the while hoping the doctor would interrupt them soon.


End file.
